Of Fishnets and High Heels
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: When you find that perfect costume for Halloween, sacrifices must be made. Features Spot in drag! Rating for language.


Disclaimer: _Newsies_ is the sole property of Disney. ::cries:: And the Cardinal Cheer belongs to Ross!

Warning: This fic has no point.

* * *

I don't know what possessed me to do it. I guess I just really wanted to be something different for Halloween. I had begun my brainstorming back in September. Ideas had swarmed my mind, each being rejected for different reasons. With little less than a week left until October 31, I set off in search of a costume; _any _costume.

First stop: Goodwill. What I expected to find was unknown to me. But what could it hurt?

I had begun my search in the Men's Section. Honestly I had. It's not my fault some lazy-ass had decided to leave it there. But sandwiched between a silky black dress shirt and a plaid green button-up shirt I spotted it. The flash of red sticking out like a sore thumb. After a slight struggle, I freed the hanger from the rack and examined it. A red dress. Spaghetti-strap. Very low-cut. _Very_ short. The chest area lined with a velveteen-type material.

It was perfect.

Not even checking the size, I slipped into the dressing area and tried it on._ Very_ loose in the chest, but nothing a little padding couldn't help. Stepping out of the room, I critiqued myself in the mirror, ignoring the looks I received.

I had to admit. I looked fucking hot.

I grinned at this notion. My grin, however, soon fell into a pout. After all, looking hot in something doesn't exactly make it a Halloween costume. I would have to _be_ something. Drag queen? Nah. I'd need something more. Prostitute? Maybe. Cher? Definitely not. Perhaps I could grab a pair of glittery wings from K-Mart. However, looking in the mirror, I knew those wings would clash with the provocative dress. And I_ had_ to have the dress. I was _meant _to have the dress. Why else would I have found it there? It was fate! _Fate_ I tell you!

Moments of contemplation later, I exited the store. In my hand, I held a receipt. $4.53. How fucking awesome!

K-mart was yet another blind search. Remnants of costumes were strewn every which way. Most people were scrummaging around on the ground, trying to find bits and pieces of costumes. The wings were at the end of the aisle. Big, butterfly wings coming in a selection of four colors: white, purple, blue, and green. Antenna included. I sighed in frustration. All perfectly good wings, but totally wrong for the costume.

In the melee of people, a fight had erupted. I think it had something to do with the last SpongeBob costume. Two women had each end of the costume in a tight grip. Neither looked ready to give in. The one closest to me suddenly gave the costume a strong tug. While it didn't completely deter the other woman, it did cause her to knock into a box filled with costume pieces which had become unattached from their original costume. Contents of the box spewed across the floor. And what do you think should slide right to my feet but a pair of wings. Bat wings. Big, black and red bat wings.

Fate.

And well worth the $15.03 I spent on them.

I knew I could borrow heels and fishnets from someone. Not to mention the fishnet gloves I had left over from God only knows what. It would be perfect. With just the right make-up it could work.

I left the store, mind whirling. I knew _exactly_ what I was doing.

* * *

I stood in front of a full length mirror. The dress clung to my body just right. The upper area had been filled in with stick-on breast enhancers creating a nice amount of cleavage. The wings were in place, drooping slightly. Topping it off were the fishnet gloves and stockings.

Did I mention how fucking hot I looked in this outfit?

My face had been covered in a pale foundation. Not clown pale, but deathly pale. My eyes were accentuated by dark eyeliner and a shit load of black eye make-up. Slathered on my lips was the deepest shade of red lipstick I could find.

"Sweetie, I want to take some pictures!"

I eyed my mother suspiciously. "Since when do you care about taking pictures of my for Halloween. You haven't done that since I was eight." That was the year I was the Red Power Ranger.

She responded without even glancing up from her digital camera. "Well you haven't dressed up in a while."

"Last year I painted my face."

"Besides," she continued unfazed. "This year I have a digital camera and I want to use it." My mother loves technology. Every time she gets the latest model of any appliance, she is eager to try it out as much as possible. Therefore, I being the nice son I am, posed in front of the fireplace, doing my best to look sultry, evil, and mysterious all at the same time. Once she was sure she had a sufficient amount of memories captured, she sent me on my way, reminding me a few hundred times to call her if I needed anything.

* * *

I pulled into the parking space with ease. I wasn't thrilled by the idea of parking in the more deserted area, but beggars can't be choosers. Lexington (the subdivision in which Specs lived) was a hot spot for Halloween. Between the eager trick-or-treaters and the mischievous teenagers, getting a car through the winding streets would be no easy task. So at 5pm, the police closed the area off to any drivers who didn't live there. Anyone else who wished to enter had to park elsewhere and walk.

Fun. Especially in fishnets and heels.

I grabbed my wings and slowly crept out of the car, trying not to let too much be seen. My heart skipped a beat when a "pop" was heard and the right side of my dress suddenly sagged.

The fucking strap had popped.

Silently cursing, I worked diligently to tie the strap to the strap of the wings. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. I grabbed my cell phone and punched in Specs's number.

"'Lo?"

"Specs?"

"Yeah?"

"It's Spot. I just parked at K-Mart, so I should be there soon."

"Do you need us to meet you?"

"I've been to your house before. I know where I'm going."

"Ok. See you in a few."

Head up defiantly, I began the trek. I knew it was going to be a long walk. He lived in the last street, near the very back. A mass of people dressed as everything from a devil to Little Red Riding Hood were crowded about a makeshift stage near the entrance of Lexington. Apparently there was a concert in progress. During my journey I saw about twelve fairies, fourteen Shreks, twenty-three different Disney princesses, seventeen superheros and two or three cats. Two un-costumed teenage boys stood in the middle of the street, snickering at those who walked about them. Passing by, I could clearly hear one of them whisper "Look! A fag!"

Ah, screw 'em. They know I look good.

"Spottie!" I found myself embraced in a hug.

"Looking good, Conlon."

"Back attcha, Higgins." Racetrack Higgins had gone in with Specs and Blink as the Spanish Inquisition of Monty Python fame. The costumes consisted of crimson priest-like garments, large wooden crosses hanging around their necks, and a different head piece for each. In Race's case, that was a woolen cap and large skit goggles.

The spaz who had attacked me on sight had not yet let me go. "Hey, Dutchy. I do need to breathe at some point."

"Oh, sorry." His costume was a cheerleading outfit. A _female_ cheerleading outfit. Two-pieces, with a "D" on the top, a little skirt, and red and white pom-poms.

I snorted. "Dude, could you look any gayer?"

"Hey, you're wearing a dress!"

"Yeah, but I look hot in it. You just look gay in that."

"I _am_ gay."

"Good point."

"Besides, Mush looks even more homo than I do."

"I can only imagine," I murmured as I made my way into the house. Specs and Blink were wore exactly what Race had been wearing, except Specs had a large "pimp" hat on and Blink simply wore a hood. Bumlets wore a basic suit and held a briefcase. Mush wore a red gown. Not sultry, like mine was, but more medieval. The sleeves were a glittery red, and the body of it was a velvet-like material. Around the stomach area was the black belt. In addition to the gown, two fiery-red wings, sparkling with glitter, protruded from the back.

"Hey Spot!" he called out with a grin.

"You fucking stole my costume, whore!"

"I know. But it looks so good on me."

Race laughed. "Hey Spot, he's turning in to you."

"Ha ha," I retorted monotonously. "Seriously, Mush. You look about as gay as gay gets. What are you supposed to be?"

"I'm a fire fairy!"

"So, you're saying you're a flaming homosexual? Yes, I see it now."

He cuffed me playfully on the back of the head. "Shut up asshole. What are _you_ supposed to be?"

I beamed proudly. "I'm a Succubus!"

Specs blinked. "A hunna whata?"

"A Succubus. Mythological demon in female form said to have intercourse with men in their sleep."

"...But you're not a female..." Blink said after a moment

"And you're a gay Cardinal. Life is imperfect." I turned to Bumlets who had suddenly joined us.

"What are you?"

"President of the Ministry of Silly Walks." He did a few strange steps as though to prove his point. More Monty Python.

"So what's the plan for this night of evil?" Dutchy inquired eating a cookie.

"I thought we agreed Dutchy wasn't allowed to have sugar anymore."

"Shut up, Race!"

Specs intervened. "I figured we'd just walk around the neighborhood. You know, enjoy the sights."

"Like Spot's breasts." We all turned to face Blink with raised eyebrows. He pointed to my chest. "Your dress is drooping. I can see your latex boobies."

"Oh, that! My strap popped, so I tied it to my wings. Or tried to."

Race unraveled the strap. "Here, let me." He pulled the strap around to the other dress strap and tied it to that. Kind of like a halter top.

"Heh. Race is getting to second base with Spot," Mush giggled.

My face was burning. "Dude. Shut _up_!"

"C'mon!" Bumlets whined. "I wanna go out on the town!"

"...Bumlets, this is Meraux, not Manhattan," Specs reminded.

"Your point?"

Between Dutchy and Bumlets, the rest of use soon found ourselves being dragged through the streets of Lexington.

* * *

Blink laughed softly next to me. "What's so funny?"

"I just thought of a really dirty cheer."

"...And you were thinking up cheers...why?"

"Well, I saw Dutchy doing some really stupid cheers, and started thinking up some."

"I wanna hear!" Bumlets said, seeming to appear out of nowhere.

Blink glanced at the multitude of children surrounding us. "I don't think that's a good idea..."

"C'mon!" Mush spoke. "There's so much noise, they'll probably never hear you."

Our seven heads closed in together conspiratorially to hear Blink whisper, "We are cardinals; we are great. We see kids and masturbate." The sound of our laughter earned a few stares from fellow pedestrians.

Specs gasped for breath. "That is _so_ wrong!"

"Hey, are we going too fast for you, Spot?"

I flicked my middle finger to Race. "It's these heels. They start to hurt after a while. The fishnets don't help much either." I tried desperately to ease the pain, but no matter which foot I shifted my weight to, it only hurt more. "Christ! How do women walk in these things?"

"Do you want to go back to the house?" Specs asked.

I shook my head. "I'm fine. My feet just...hurt." I leaned against the parked truck, scanning to see if its owner was anywhere in sight. After a moment, my feet felt slightly better. I straightened up. "Ok. I'm ready to go." Barely had we walked even one block before the pain became excruciating. "Does anyone want to be very nice and carry me for a while?"

Blink stood in front of me, squatting slightly. "Here, jump on."

"Blink, hun, I can't get on your back."

"Why not?"

Mush interjected. "His dress is fucking short."

I began shifting from one foot to the other again. I could practically feel the blisters forming. My poor, poor feet.

"Here," Race spoke, removing his shoes, "you can wear my shoes."

I glanced down at my heels. "I don't know if they'll fit you..."

"It's ok. I'll go shoe-less."

I hesitated. The worn out, brown loafers looked divine. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He didn't need to repeat himself. I kick off my heels and replaced them with his shoes in less than a minute. "Race, when was the last time I told you how much I love you?"

"Spo-ot lo-oves Ra-ace!" Bumlets cried out in a singsong voice. "Spot and Race, sitting in a tree, F-U-C-"

"Children present!" Dutchy shouted before Bumlets could finish.

* * *

"Salvation!" Blink cried out. In the distance, I saw a large, pink, blinking spider web. Specs's house. We had returned. Thank the Lord...

I glanced at the clock. "Hey, I think I need to get going."

"Aww," moaned Mush. "It's only a little after ten."

"Yeah, but I have school tomorrow."

"Heh. Sucks to be you."

"Bumlets, no _Avenue Q_ quotes."

"Shut up, Blink!"

I stood to leave. Specs stopped me. "Wait. We can all walk you back to your car. Make sure you don't get raped or anything."

"You don't...have...to." They were already standing and ready to go. "Or I guess you could do that."

My feet were screaming in pain. Metaphorically speaking, of course. It would be a bit weird if my feet could actually scream.

"Christ, where'd you park?" Race asked.

"I'm here...somewhere..."

We exchanged our good-byes before I finally slipped into my car. For a moment I just sat there, letting my feet relax after all of the torture through which I had put them that night. Turning the key in the ignition, I spotted a small white sheet of paper stuck under my windshield wiper. My feet couldn't bear to be stood on again. Not to mention it was a task to get in and out of the car with as little showing as possible. I just had to roll down the window, reach out carefully and grab the stupid...

POP!

The other fucking strap popped.

"FUCK!"

* * *

Woo! I wrote this entire thing in one day!

Spot: It shows...

Shut up! Anywho, I'm in the process if writing the next chapter of THOBASM...

Specs: Don't lie!

::Smacks Specs:: But I wanted to write this little thing. All more or less based on truth.::rubs very sore feet:: I also am going to post the first chapter of a new fic soon. Yay! ::celebrates:: Anywho, hope you enjoyed. If you did, review! If you didn't...review! Ciao!


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